


One Left in the Chamber

by MCU_Supersoldiers_Etc



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Steve Rogers has major PTSD, Tony Stark is trying too hard in a good way, implied suicidal thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-10 03:42:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20521382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MCU_Supersoldiers_Etc/pseuds/MCU_Supersoldiers_Etc
Summary: What happens when the dust settles after the Battle of New York...





	One Left in the Chamber

The aftermath seemed even messier than that battle had been. Cops and soldiers and Government Agents, all getting in each other’s way. There had been a brief spat in the lobby of Stark Tower about who _precisely _was entitled to custody of Loki and the Tesseract. Fury had won. Against a man that Tony was fairly certain was technically Fury’s superior. But then again, Tony wouldn’t want to put Fury to the test either. That just screamed ‘bad idea’.

Then there was the media. Naturally.

Every shmuck with a camera was shoving it in anybody’s face who would hold still long enough, and seemed like they might have something interesting to say. And _everybody _wanted to hear from ‘The Avengers’. Tony wasn’t sure where and when the name had leaked, but it spread like wildfire. His Marketing Team was going to have a field day with it.

There had been a short Press Conference in one of the Meeting Rooms on the first floor of the Tower. Major media outlets, for the most part, though a few smaller networks and bloggers had probably found their way in. Director Fury had gotten all 6 of them cleaned up as best they could (don’t ask how or _why _there was an entirely new uniform ready and waiting for Steve and the Spies. Those things just -happen- when you work with shady government organizations, right?) Tony didn’t pay attention to the whole thing, but it wasn’t too hard to follow the main points:

-Loki had been captured, and the alien threat had been thwarted.

-No, they weren’t coming back any time soon. Yes, they were sure.

-Meet the Avengers, Earth’s very own Superhero peace-keeping force!

-So, who’s the new Captain America? Funny you should ask. We happened to bring the original back from the dead. What, you’ve never seen a side of beef come out of the freezer before?

-Yes, Thor IS an alien, too. But he’s one of the good guys. His (adopted) brother’s just an asshole, with a millennia of Daddy Issues or something.

There were about a thousand questions shouted at them. Agent Hill answered most of them. Or Fury. Sometimes Tony got a word in edge-wise, but he was pretty used to the press. And he was a familiar face to the clamoring vultures. Tony Stark, face of the Avengers. He kind of liked the sound of that. If only because he knew Fury didn’t think he had been good enough to be a part of it. Spite was an excellent motivator.

By the time all was said and done, it was late, and Tony had made a couple calls to get a few rooms on the upper levels fit for guests to stay in. They probably could have gone back to the helicarrier, but this was better. More… team-ish, Tony decided. Yeah… this was the beginning of something big. Something _good. _And he wasn’t gonna mess it up by letting Fury and his government goons keep taking point on it. Tony Stark was nobody’s goon. And _his_ team wasn’t going to be, either.

Dr. Banner had passed out curled up into a corner of the sofa. At the other end of it was Barton, sipping a beer he’d gotten from God knows where. Sitting on the arm of the couch right beside him was Little Miss Triple Agent Romanoff, talking tiredly with Pepper. Who, no doubt, was assuring them that it was no trouble for them to stay, and thanking them for keeping Tony from dying today. Pepper was polite like that.

“Hey, where’s Spangles?” Tony asked curiously.

Pepper looked around, realizing he wasn’t there. “Oh, um… I don’t know. Maybe he turned in already? I know Thor did. He said something about meditating and… calling home?” she said with a curious tilt of her head.

“I think he went to get some air.” Barton supplied, nodding his head towards the access stairs that led to the roof.

“Huh. Kay.” Tony shrugged, heading that way himself.

He found Rogers sitting on the edge of the roof, just a few feet from where the portal generator had been sitting. He’d found a change of clothes, somewhere, maybe the ones he’d been wearing before Stuttgart? Looked like something an old man would wear. But no 90-year old man ever made a leather jacket and a plaid shirt look that good. He was quiet, and still, staring down at the city lit up around and below them.

For a moment, the light played tricks on Tony’s eyes, and the man looked _old, _even though Tony couldn’t see his face. He stepped closer, feet crunching on the gravel that covered the roof. The soldier turned his head a fraction, but didn’t move otherwise. Tony crossed his arms and leaned on the broad concrete wall that acted as a safety rail, a few feet from where Rogers sat on it.

“Hell of a mess down there. Gonna take months to get it all cleaned up.” He commented idly.

“War is always messy. Even short ones.” Steve replied.

Tony turned his head to look at him. _Really _look at him. He wasn’t too sure Steve was seeing the city below him at all. He wasn’t sure he felt the wind up here, or the 40 stories of nothing beneath his dangling feet. Or-

“What is _that?_” Tony asked abruptly, looking at Steve’s hands in his lap.

“It’s a gun, obviously.” Steve replied flatly.

“I know -that-, but why do you _have it_?” he asked.

“I took it off one of the police officers that got killed. Decent piece, not as much kickback as I thought it would have.” Steve said with a little shrug. He turned and looked at Tony, who apparently was giving him an odd look, from Steve’s little scoff.

“I was a soldier on the front lines, Mr. Stark. I know my way around a gun.” He said dryly. “And there’s no holster for one in my new… uniform.” He added, a flicker of something Tony thought might be distaste passing over the blond’s features. Then he turned back to the open air, and not quite seeing New York below.

A chill ran down Tony’s spine that had nothing to do with the wind up this high.

“We won, Cap. It’s over.” He said, desperate to fill the silence with something more than the white noise of the wind and the city.

Steve didn’t look at him this time. The corner of his mouth twitched up humorlessly for a moment, and he sighed.

“Yeah, we did. But not without cost. It’s never without cost, Stark. And it’s never over. Not really. There’s always another fight. Another war.” He said tiredly. Effortlessly, he twisted around and swung his legs back to the roof of the building, standing up and straightening his jacket with his free hand.

Tony straightened back up too, eyeing the Captain and the gun in his hand speculatively.

“Steve… are you okay?” he asked softly.

Steve blinked at him, and Tony had to suppress a shudder. For a second, there was absolutely nothing behind them, just glassy numbnesss. Then something slid back into place, and Tony was looking at a young man that wasn’t even 30, who’d seen WAY too much shit, and didn’t want to look him in the eye. That man flipped the gun in his hand and held it by the barrel, offering it to Tony.

“Fine. Just tired. Been a long damn day.” Steve sighed, as if it had been just an average day of above average inconvenience. Like hitting traffic on the way to and from the office, and having the boss yell at you to boot.

“Good night, Mr. Stark. Thank you for your hospitality. I appreciate it.” He said with a polite little smile that got nowhere near his eyes. Then he turned and walked back into the building.

Tony stared after him for a minute.

He hit the button on the Glock that released the magazine. It was empty. He pulled back the slide to make sure the chamber was clear.

_Clink._

He stared for far too long at the unspent round that had ejected from the chamber. As if it were a snake that might jump up and bite him if he made a move. His fingers shook as he finally reached down and picked it up from the gravel.

He turned the gun back in to the police the next morning.

The bullet felt like it weighed ten tons in his pocket. He put it in the back of a drawer in his desk, where nobody would ever find it.

If Steve knew that he _knew _what had almost happened that night, he never brought it up with Tony.

There are some things... you just don’t talk about.

**Author's Note:**

> A much as I love getting into the head of a character while writing them, sometimes it's fun to write them as you might see them on screen; from an outsider's POV. It can have more impact, if you don't have to explain it to understand it.
> 
> I think about Steve Rogers' state of mind and deep trauma quite a LOT. Because he's such a steadfast character, it often gets overlooked, if not completely written off. Like... I could write a million little stories like this about Steve's pain and trauma. Don't even get me started, okay??? This isn't gonna be the last Angsty Steve Story you see out of me.
> 
> I love Steve Rogers with all of my heart and soul, and like a lot of writers, I spend far too much time writing things that hurt the characters I love most.


End file.
